Unexpected
by BelletheWickedWitch
Summary: Jade expects a lot of things, but love was never one of them. Until Beck turned her whole world upside down, and the unexpected started happening a lot more. Rade! Oneshot!


**A/N: So, I don't know how this happened. It just sort of did. It wasn't supposed to be a love story, I don't know where that came from. It was supposed to be some short drabble about Jade handling her breakup. Anyway, here you go. Oh shoot, I almost forgot. I don't own _Victorious_. **

I didn't think it would be this way. I never intended to fall for him, let alone face the heartbreak that came with losing him. Suddenly, he was all that mattered to me where my social life was concerned. I loved him with everything I had. I was too snarky, I guess. He finally gave up trying to find the good in me.

_Three years_. I gave him three years of my life, my love. What did that make me? It made me weak. It made me dependant. It made me believe that I would have him forever. And now I didn't.

Going on Spring Break with him was out of the question, now. I would have to find some amusement in the dumb suburbs of Hollywood. I didn't want to. I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry my heart out and feel sorry for myself. But I would not let myself be weak. I was not weak.

I was Jade West. I was better than this.

**ooo**

I woke up on the first day of spring break to find light streaming through the cracks in my shades. I hated when that happened. My room was dark, and the light just ruined it. I took the roll of duct tape from my bedside table, cut a piece off, and patched up the crack in the worn canvas.

Awake, I decided I might as well do something useful with my time. I got dressed, grabbed a muffin, and headed into town to start what was bound to be the lamest Spring Break experience I'd ever had. I spent one year dressed as a cannibal princess when I was little. This would be worse than that.

I don't know how it happened. All I know is that I liked it. I didn't miss Beck. I wasn't thinking about anything but this moment, right here. Man, he was a good kisser. I think we kissed through that entire Spring Break. There certainly wasn't a lot of talking. Who would have thought that _he_ would be a good kisser?

I didn't think it would be this way. I didn't expect to suddenly see his weird, nerdy moments as charming quirks. I didn't expect to miss the feel of his lips on mine. I never expected to see him as anything but a loser, someone who I only associated with because he hung out with my same group of friends.

No one else noticed the small smiles, no one but him. He would rub his thumb across the table in small circles, like he used to do up her arms as we kissed.

**ooo**

Somehow, his lips were on mine. Liquid cleaner scented the air, but all I could think about was his lips on mine. He pressed me up against the wall by some brooms. I was letting him get the upper hand. I didn't know why. I was just succumbing to the power of his lips. He was such a good kisser. I hadn't expected that.

I never thought that the impromptu meetings in the janitor's closet would become regular, planned things. Two minutes, right after lunch, we would meet up. We never talked. We just kissed.

I never thought that the meetings in the janitor's closet would amount to anything. They were fun. Then, one day, he got me a bracelet. It was dumb. It was silver in color, obviously painted, obviously from some cheap dollar store. Beck never got me anything like that. This was something I could wear on a regular basis without any suspicion from our friends. This meant something. It meant that these meetings in the janitor's closet were more than just fun. They were real.

I never thought kissing in the janitor's closet would lead to texting. Dumb texts, about how our days were, stupid "I can't wait to see/kiss you" messages, questions on homework even. They made me smile when I opened them, and I never smiled.

One day I checked myself. I was letting myself get reeled in like a sea bass. I couldn't let that happen. Not again, not after Beck.

I missed that day in the janitor's closet, and the one after that. I didn't answer his texts. I made rude comments about his shirt, and rude comments when Little Miss Optimistic Brunette decided to defend him.

I didn't take off the bracelet. I couldn't, not really. Part of me wanted this to continue, despite the angry protests from the more sensible part. I texted him back.

**ooo**

Who would have thought that our texts and janitor's closet meetings would turn into phone calls? I didn't. I never thought that I would laugh at his jokes and encourage his ideas. I never thought that he would understand and expect my sarcasm, and laugh at it. We could carry on a conversation for hours, sometimes well past midnight.

I didn't think it would be this way with another guy. Suddenly, our meetings in the janitor's closet, our texts, and our phone calls had progressed to secret hand holds under the lunch table, which worked because he was left handed. I was looking forward every day to those minutes after lunch, those texts after school, those calls late at night.

I never thought that we would only sometimes kiss when we met in the janitor's closet. I never thought making out would turn into brief pecks that lead into conversation, the kiss and the conversation varying in length depending on the day and our moods. I never thought that he would be someone who would be easy to talk to.

I didn't want to fall for him, but it was too late. He'd caught my sea bass self, and could probably mount my head on a plague in his garage if he so chose. I told him that, once. He laughed.

"I could," he agreed, "but no one would believe me."

"Hey," I argued, "you have me. I don't know how, and if I were you, I really wouldn't put too much thought in it or that might change. But it's too late now to throw me back into the sea with all the other fishes."

"Shouldn't that be the other way around?" he asked, laughing at my sarcasm.

I didn't respond. I grabbed his hand, and pulled him out of the janitor's closet.

I expected a lot in life. I expected that I would be an award winning playwrite, with the occasional professional acting gig on the side. I expected that my father wouldn't approve of my lifestyle until I had fully established myself in it, and then he still wouldn't approve until I looked the part of a businesswoman. I expected that my stepmom wouldn't last too long. I expected that my little brother would play baseball for the local kids' team. I expected Sikowitz to look like he just rolled out of bed and put a vest over his pajamas every single day.

But I never in a million years thought that, in front of practically everyone, I would be pushing Robbie Shapiro up against the door to the janitor's closet and kissing him.

It was a surprise that came over time, a welcome surprise that I wouldn't take back for anything.

Except maybe a pair of actual scissors from _Edward Scissorhands_, signed by Johnny Depp himself.

But that's beside the point.


End file.
